


Flower Crowns and Fugitives

by 2neverlxnd



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, I Ship It, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Muke - Freeform, blue hair michael, fetus 5sos, friendship muke, mashton af, platonic muke
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 09:41:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9485459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2neverlxnd/pseuds/2neverlxnd
Summary: Luke and Michael run away from their awful lives and Michael may or may not fall for the hot guy from the record store that likes bandanas.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote this story years ago and it did SO well published on Wattpad.
> 
> But it was awful.
> 
> So with that being said, I rewrote this fic and while the new version is up on Wattpad, I would like to publish it here on Ao3 with a clean slate. Feedback is appreciated!
> 
> PS: Title of chapter is from Paris by The Chainsmokers

Luke didn't know what he was doing, honestly. One minute he was substituting his pillow with his math textbook, arms draped over the desk, and the next he was in his best friend's red pick up truck that looked as though someone drove it through a car wash of dirt but forgot the windows. He leaned his head against the window as his eyes drooped, the slight jerks of the car starting to lull him to sleep once again until the driver spoke up. "So are you excited?"

"For what?" he groaned, voice still a little groggy as it had not been used since he asked him what he was doing in his house at _two in the fucking morning_ five minutes before.

"Our adventure, Lukey." The blue haired boy let out a chuckle and patted his leg.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Luke asked, turning his head to give him a look of bewilderment.

"Remember what we talked about last year? On your sixteenth birthday we were going to run away together and get married and have punk rock children?"

"That never happened."

"It did in my head, so shush." He turned the radio up just loud enough to hear Kellin Quinn's voice gently escape the awful speakers. "Besides, I think you'll like what I have in mind for our destination."

"Oh no," Luke moaned miserably as the truck came to a stop at a red light. Just feet away on the right side of the road was the train station and it was no longer one of Luke's very strange dreams. "Wait, are you serious?"

"Yeah." After getting out of the car, he opened the passenger door only for Luke's head to fall against his chest with his eyes closed. "Come on, sleeping beauty. We have to go make something of ourselves."

"But I don't want to," Luke mumbled with his lips squished from his friend's chest pressed against his cheek.

"Lukey."

"Mikey."

"Wake the fuck up, Lucifer," Michael snapped quietly. His fingers massaged Luke's scalp and consequently flattened his blonde quiff, but that wasn't what was important. What was important was to not miss the last train to Sydney and to get Luke to wake the fuck up. "Luke, we're gonna miss the last train."

"Fine," Luke grumbled and pulled himself away from Michael. The two grabbed their luggage — Luke's was packed by Michael since he had no motivation to do so when he was so tired — and headed into the train station. The intercom was a lot louder than Luke remembered from when he was younger, but that may have been because he was a little less than half asleep and he could feel the panic rising in his friend's body as if it were his own at the announcement: _"The final train to Sydney will arrive in three minutes."_

"Fuck." Michael grabbed the younger's wrist and dragged him through the terminal like a child dragging their parent to show them something they found absolutely wonderful. It took two minutes of Michael mumbling profanities under his breath and Luke trying not to trip over his own feet to arrive at the stop, both of them slightly out of breath as they sat on the bench. "We made it." Luke nodded as he collected himself for a moment. There was a pause, a moment for clarity and comprehension, that led him to a question he should have asked when they were still at his house: "Mikey, why are we running?"

"To escape our miserable lives," he shrugged with a nervous undertone. "What else would we be running from?"

"Your parents." He crossed a line, he knew he did, but he couldn't help himself; he was running on two hours of sleep and he hadn't had a filter around his best friend for as long as he could remember. He could feel Michael's body tense beside him though and that was never a good thing. A scared Michael meant a scared Luke and they can't be scared. No, not when they're finally getting out of that soul-sucking hellhole, their hometown. "What do they say to you?"

"Luke." His voice was tight as he looked up at him with green irises with red around the rims from the forming tears. "They don't just yell at me when I don't do the dishes." There was no time for Luke to absorb the information since the train pulled up in time to avoid him giving Michael a proper response. _Was_ there a proper response to something like this? Luke didn't know. The worst thing his parents have ever done to him is threaten to send him to the emergency room whenever he threw up from food poisoning. Then again, that wasn't exactly a bad thing — his parents had always been far too protective of him because he was their only child — but he hated hospitals so much that it was quite an issue at the time.

_How could someone do this to their child?_ That was the question running through both their minds as they drifted off into peaceful sleep, their escape from reality only found in their dreams.

**Author's Note:**

> Why did I write this fic again?


End file.
